


Melt

by IneffableAlien



Series: Proverbs 20:12 [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Blow Jobs, Cold-Blooded Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley's Eyes (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, Drunk Aziraphale (Good Omens), Enthusiastic Consent, Face-Fucking, Flustered Crowley (Good Omens), Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Happy Ending, Horny Aziraphale (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Kink, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Scene: Body Swap (Good Omens), Romantic Fluff, Rough Kissing, Senses, Simultaneous Orgasm, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Synesthesia, The Night At Crowley's Flat (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21724795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableAlien/pseuds/IneffableAlien
Summary: Coldblooded Aziraphale is damn near drugged on cuddles.  Crowley doesn't know what the rules are for giving consent while body-heat-drunk.  A good time is eventually had by all.A series about the effects of switching bodies, if human-shaped Crowley lived with snake senses.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Proverbs 20:12 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1520660
Comments: 78
Kudos: 347
Collections: Ineffable Husbands fanfiction Gap





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fifth part of [Proverbs 20:12](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1520660), about the effects of the swap night if Crowley's body came with snake senses. They are all written to be enjoyable on their own, but starting from the beginning might be better :)
> 
> Thanks to everyone who loved this series! I am marking it completed with this installment, but I might revisit it in the future!
> 
>  **There is _no explicit material_ in the first chapter, and the series still makes sense if you stop reading there.** Enjoy.

_Ohshitohshitohshitohsh,_ thought Crowley.

Crowley and Aziraphale had switched bodies, and Aziraphale was coldblooded, and after barely half a glass of wine Aziraphale could not get enough of rubbing up against Crowley. Crowley forced himself to stop smelling Aziraphale’s hair _(Guh, why am I smelling my own hair-what-is-wrong-with-me,_ he thought) and straightened up a little on the couch formerly known as a throne. “Aziraphale,” he coughed, “uh, angel, you’re. Well, you’re not used to certain things yet, and you’re getting a little heat-drunk.”

“Oh, _yessssssss,_ I do believe I’ve noticed,” purred an Aziraphale whose field of fucks to give was clearly barren.

 _This is nice,_ one of the devils on one of Crowley’s shoulders hissed to him, _maybe you should go with it._ “I am not going to just ‘go with it,’” Crowley said out loud.

“Crowley, to whom are you speaking, exactly?” asked Aziraphale, sitting up now, if “sitting up” could be defined as vertically slithering along Crowley’s torso.

 _It’s fine, he’s not even altered enough to end a sentence with a preposition,_ thought Crowley, who realized even as he was thinking it that he was possibly not the greatest judge of what is or isn’t fine. “Never mind that,” sputtered Crowley, “it’s just that, you’ve never been this, eh, physical before, and—”

“And you don’t like it?” asked Aziraphale, looking hurt, and— _What the Heaven,_ Crowley thought, _how is he making puppy dog eyes with literal snake eyes?!_

Crowley sighed, a little (a lot) more longing-schoolgirlishly than he had intended. “I love it,” he admitted. “All night we’ve been touching a little more and more than, well, ever, and I really love it, angel, but …”

“But what?” Aziraphale prodded.

Crowley scrunched up his eyes. He didn’t have a headache, he was intentionally trying to summon one so as to redirect some aches which were taking place elsewhere. “Well, wouldn’t I be, ah, taking advantage?”

Aziraphale smiled cheekily. “I’ll sober up.”

“It won’t work,” said Crowley. “I don’t get affected by body heat like that anymore because I’ve had thousands of years to get used to it”— _And because I don’t let anyone touch me,_ came the unbidden thought—“but I could never miracle it up. Like how you can’t miracle my eyes to look any better.” Crowley winced.

“Well, first of all,” said Aziraphale, “I could never miracle your eyes to look ‘better,’ because I have always found them beautiful the way they are.”

 _Who taught him to be smooth all of a sudden?? How is that fair?!_ Crowley thought wretchedly.

“And secondly,” Aziraphale said mischievously, nodding toward the barely touched bottle of wine and the glasses on the table, “you are more than welcome to try to catch up, my dear.” He grinned. “This would be the time for you to go fast now, don’t you think?”

Crowley made a noise like being strangled. “How, eh, fast did you want to go?”

“You have truly got to be the daftest demon alive,” said Aziraphale. He pressed up along the full length of Crowley’s side (which set Crowley into a near panic state, envisioning other full lengths as well) so he could whisper something in Crowley’s ear.

Crowley’s jaw dropped.

“They give out SHAFTAs to people who can do all those things at the same time,” said Crowley, sounding vaguely shellshocked. He wildly shook his head to bring himself back to reality, or whatever this was. Battering past all nerves, Crowley turned his head to where Aziraphale’s face was so close to his own and, though not kissing, they were nosing over one another. They could feel each other’s breath and lashes. Here and there, lips barely brushed.

The man(-shaped being) was only human(/demon) after all.

“But angel,” murmured Crowley, his fingers finding Aziraphale’s jawline but applying no pressure there, “the first time … should we be like this? Shouldn’t we be in our own bodies?”

Aziraphale nipped at Crowley’s chin. “My dear, you are going to get plenty of opportunities to be in your own body tonight,” he said.

Crowley jerked; if he’d been drinking wine, it would have been a spit-take. “Who _are_ you??” he choked.

Aziraphale finally became serious. “Somebody who’s had to say no for too long,” he said gently.

Crowley caught a growl beginning low in his throat and held it back. He had two speeds, either terrified to touch, or slamming up against a wall, and he still wasn’t 100-percent sure that it was all right to dial things up to eleven now.

“You really are so dear when you get flustered,” said Aziraphale softly, hot on Crowley’s mouth.

“Do me a favor,” said Crowley, nudging Aziraphale’s nose once before pulling off entirely, “stay right here. Just, I know I’m probably being too cautious and overthinking it, but—humor me.” Aziraphale watched, intrigued and amused, as Crowley crossed the room and flung open the doors to the balcony. It was not bitter cold out, but the draft was not pleasant, and the effect on Aziraphale was akin to having a bucket of water thrown on you.

Aziraphale shivered. “Crowley,” he said, “it is terribly sweet of you to worry about me in such a dramatic fashion. But I assure you, I am more than in a right state of mind.” He dropped his pitch. “I might be acting more rightly in this moment than how I’ve treated you for the last 6,000 years,” he confessed.

Crowley came back to the couch and ran his hands back through Aziraphale’s hair as he sat down. He looked into Aziraphale’s eyes, was looking into his own slitted pupils drawn wide, and said nothing. “You really mean that,” he said. It was a statement, not a question.

“Is it really so hard to believe?” asked Aziraphale.

Crowley continued to search Aziraphale’s face with his eyes. “You need to know something, before anything else,” he said.

Aziraphale beamed. “Do you really think I don’t already know?”

Crowley felt one corner of his mouth quirking up, and he kissed Aziraphale then, sweetly, lips closed, and they stilled for a moment. Then he withdrew his fingers from the fiery red waves on Aziraphale’s head and leaned back, shifting away from Aziraphale until no part of them was touching. Crowley grinned wickedly. “In that case,” he said, “I always wanted to try something.”

Aziraphale started to tug the blanket on the couch back up around his shoulders, but Crowley reached across and pulled it so it slipped off him slowly. “Don’t,” Crowley said. Aziraphale looked confused, then pouted.

“It’s getting freezing in here,” Aziraphale complained, sober as anything. He crossed his arms.

“It is, isn’t it?” said Crowley. His wide toothy smirk was rakishly attractive but odd on the face belonging to Aziraphale. Aziraphale was inching closer to Crowley. “No,” said Crowley, putting one hand up. Aziraphale _whined. He_ **whined,** thought Crowley delightedly. Then, Crowley reached out, and placed his palm firmly on Aziraphale’s cheek.

Aziraphale moaned into the touch, pressing his head in Crowley’s hand as though he could curl his whole body upward inside it. Crowley let go. Aziraphale tried to follow, and Crowley sat back. “Don’t,” he said again, adding a little edge to his voice this time. Aziraphale sat, staring attentively, looking hungry, until Crowley reached to the opposite side and splayed his fingers flat against Aziraphale’s neck. Aziraphale gasped, and Crowley released him.

“Please,” said Aziraphale.

“What?” said Crowley, who very well knew.

“Don’t stop,” said Aziraphale.

Crowley grinned. “I haven’t done anything,” he said innocently. “All I did was touch your neck.”

 _“Pleasssssssse_ touch me again.”

“Where?” Crowley asked, all teeth and low notes.

“Wherever I’m cold,” whispered Aziraphale.

“That’s everywhere,” said Crowley.

There is a game human lovers play, you might know it. It is something you do with ice cubes.

Crowley was just playing it in reverse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xx [siliconealien](http://siliconealien.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are so in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This entire chapter is explicit, and the previous chapter works just fine as a series ending!**
> 
> I didn't know which tags to use, but:
> 
> _1\. Aziraphale's corporation has a penis. Therefore, Crowley (in Aziraphale's body) currently has a penis._   
>  _2\. Crowley's corporation has a vulva. Therefore, Aziraphale (in Crowley's body) currently has a vulva._
> 
> I did not originally plan on writing it that way, but Crowley had a mind of his own on the matter.
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this series. Thank you, all, for reading along :)

_“Then touch me everywhere,”_ Aziraphale said weakly.

Crowley gazed at Aziraphale, drinking in his yearning. He stood. He snapped his fingers, and the doors to the balcony shut. He knew it would still take some time for the room to warm back up. He came in front of Aziraphale, leaned in to place his hand behind Aziraphale’s shoulder on the couch, then gestured down with his other hand for him to spread his legs. He did, and when Crowley sank one knee between them on the couch to steady himself over him, there was a good inch-thick gap where Aziraphale’s groin and inner thighs did not meet Crowley at all, but Aziraphale’s infrared sensing all around that region was accosted.

Still standing on the other leg, Crowley undid two buttons on (his) the long-sleeved black shirt Aziraphale wore, then slid his hands under the fabric, parting it from the center and spreading his palms out across either side of Aziraphale’s chest like wings. Then he let his weight fall, hands searingly hot and heavy just beneath Aziraphale’s collar while Crowley propped himself up. Aziraphale let his head drop back in pleasure, exposing his throat. Crowley brought his lips close, then danced his kisses just out of reach so that Aziraphale was forced to settle for the heat that poured off Crowley’s mouth. Aziraphale started to creep his thighs together to clasp Crowley’s leg, and without even having to look, Crowley said, “Stop.”

Aziraphale raised his head. “You’re going to make your own body _disssssssscorporate,”_ he said plaintively.

Crowley pushed his weight back onto his legs and undid the rest of Aziraphale’s shirt, sliding it down and nodding for Aziraphale to take it off the rest of the way. Then he cupped Aziraphale’s bare shoulders, feeling how they were like spheres of ice coming apart at his touch. Slow as glaciers, he slid his hands down Aziraphale’s back until his arms rested there, too, their chests almost touching but not quite. Aziraphale whimpered because everything past Crowley’s shoulder blades was just out of reach, until Crowley finally did lower his lips, sweetly, to Aziraphale’s forehead, and linger there. Aziraphale’s eyelids fluttered shut, his own lips parted.

Moving his head slowly, Crowley trailed kisses, first one on Aziraphale’s temple, then next the opposite cheekbone, then back to the other side, pressed tenderly to one corner of Aziraphale’s mouth. Aziraphale chased that one, turning just in time to sigh into it. Crowley allowed it, just the gentlest sweeping of lips on lips, then darted back before Aziraphale could deepen the kiss.

Crowley grinned. “You can bring your legs together now, if you want,” he said.

Aziraphale didn’t need to be told twice. He snapped his thighs shut on either side of Crowley’s bent leg, then shuffled down where he sat until his crotch rested on Crowley’s knee. Crowley drew his hands up Aziraphale’s body so he cradled his back in one, then ran the other through his hair. When Crowley ducked in to kiss him then, Aziraphale responded ferociously, throwing his arms around Crowley’s body and slamming theirs together. He was past abiding Crowley’s teasing.

There was a low rumbling in Crowley’s throat as Aziraphale kissed him hungrily, tongue searching to smell and taste Crowley’s mouth, temporary fangs banging it so indelicately that Crowley was sure there’d be droplets of blood on his lower lip by the time Aziraphale let him go. He couldn’t care less, and when he moaned into Aziraphale’s mouth, Aziraphale thought Crowley tasted like tears, tasted like coming home when you hadn’t even believed home might still be waiting.

Aziraphale rutted on Crowley’s knee, and was surprised to find that he could not get enough of it no matter how forcefully he pressed. Everything between his legs just felt white-hot and starving, and a little lightbulb came on above his head. “Crowley,” Aziraphale panted, “do I have a …?”

“Huh?” Crowley gasped into Aziraphale’s mouth. “Oh—probably,” he said. “I haven’t looked in a couple days.” Then, Crowley twisted up the top of Aziraphale’s black pants and caught Aziraphale completely off guard when he stood and took Aziraphale with him, essentially picking him up by the jeans. Crowley further shocked him when he plunged one hand down the front of those jeans, crooking his arm slightly to find the velvet between Aziraphale’s legs. “Oh, that’s neat,” said Crowley. “And you’re so fucking _wet.”_ He said those words like a prayer of thanks. Then, he wrenched his hand free of Aziraphale’s jeans, and if he hadn’t still had his belt line twisted up in one fist, Aziraphale might have buckled and dropped when Crowley shoved two fingers into Aziraphale’s mouth and swiped the remaining slick on his thumb down his chin at the same time.

Aziraphale moaned, chasing the aroma with his tongue. “I’ve never,” he tried to say, “I mean, I never …”

“What?” Crowley said, swirling his thumb deep into Aziraphale’s mouth and kissing around it. “You never had, or you never _‘had’ … ?”_

“Neither,” said Aziraphale.

Still kissing and gripping each other’s bodies roughly, Crowley walked Aziraphale back against a wall and rolled his hips into him, feeling the throbbing there. He shivered, something dark and possessive in the heart of him. “The first pussy you ever tasted was mine?” he asked in a low voice.

Aziraphale grabbed between their bodies and made Crowley cry out when he firmly held his cock through the front of his pants—Aziraphale’s cock. “This is yours, too,” he said.

Crowley spasmed under the touch. “Mine,” he agreed breathlessly, “and all of mine is yours. I just want to make you feel good.” Crowley reached under Aziraphale’s ass and lifted him, using the wall to help shift him so he could wrap his long legs around Crowley’s waist. Crowley laughed a little at picking up his own corporation—“I’m fucking light,” he said, “and you’re bloody strong!”

“You’re beautiful,” Aziraphale murmured into Crowley’s neck as he lapped with his forked tongue and nipped him there. “I would love to be shaped like this all the time.”

Crowley snarled. _“No,”_ he said, “you’re flawless the way you are—Aziraphale—you’re perfect … fuck …”

Crowley carried Aziraphale that way into the bathroom. He set him on the sink, turned the shower on to start steaming, and tugged everything off from Aziraphale’s waist down (clearly practiced in removing skinny jeans). Aziraphale flashed wide eyes at Crowley and made a tiny anxious sound that for a second brought Crowley out of the moment. He searched Aziraphale’s face, concerned, then burst out laughing when he realized what he was trying to communicate. Crowley snapped his fingers and sent his outfit, the clothes belonging to Aziraphale, folded neatly to the couch, where nothing could get ripped or wet. “Better?” he said, with a grin.

Aziraphale smiled broadly and gave an approving nod. “Much.”

Without warning, Crowley pried Aziraphale’s legs apart and drove his face between them.

Aziraphale scrabbled at the wall behind him for something to grab, but just slid his fingers down the mirror there. But that only happened for a fraction of a second, before he decided that the best thing to grab were fistfuls of Crowley’s hair. When Crowley broke off lathering Aziraphale with his tongue so he could kiss and bite his thighs, Aziraphale shoved Crowley’s face right back into his dripping slit. Crowley groaned, low and rolling, inside Aziraphale, and Aziraphale tilted his head back on the mirror, his hair painting streaks of empty space where it was fogging.

Crowley gave Aziraphale one long lick from ass to clit and stood, holding his arms out to Aziraphale to entice him into the shower. Instead, Aziraphale pulled Crowley back into his arms and turned to where they were both facing the mirror. “Look,” he said, nuzzling their cheeks together. “Look at me, my dear. What do you see?”

Crowley opened his mouth, then said nothing. He looked back and forth between their two reflections, realizing that he wasn’t even sure which one Aziraphale meant when he said to look at _him._ “I see us,” he said simply.

Aziraphale turned in Crowley’s arms, and spoke into his mouth as he kissed him: “You’re so beautiful, Crowley … The next time you look at yourself in that mirror and start judging yourself—I want you to remember how you feel looking into your own eyes now.”

Crowley trembled, then took Aziraphale’s hands and pulled him along as he backed into the shower. It was a slower, sweeter moment, and it gave Aziraphale the opportunity to catch his breath as he slid tightly against Crowley’s chest.

Aziraphale suddenly understood why Crowley had brought him in the shower.

Aside from how wonderfully warm it was, the drops shooting down Aziraphale’s body, spattering off the walls, and bouncing back up off the ceramic tile, all vibrated through Aziraphale’s bones and rattled his pelvis, from under his snake-scaled feet. The sensation of water pounding the floor briefly whited out his vision, and he found himself swept into Crowley’s arms. He wrapped his arms around Crowley’s neck and kissed him, then slid down to his knees in front of him.

 _Huh,_ thought Aziraphale, _so this was the view Oscar had._ He pushed that thought aside as he took Crowley’s cock in his hand and licked beneath it. _Oh, how the tables have turned, my dear._ Crowley was making the most preciously inelegant noises above him as he gripped the wall with one hand and Aziraphale’s hair with the other. _How interesting,_ Aziraphale thought, finally inventorying his strange tongue. _I wonder how long it is._

 _“Fuck!”_ Crowley shouted, nearly slipping onto the floor. “A-angel!! **D’n! St’!”**

 _That’s pretty damned long,_ thought Aziraphale.

Aziraphale bobbed up and down, and he reached to grasp Crowley’s hand in his hair and slam it down firmer against his scalp, the universal sign for “Please, Sir, kindly fuck my face harder.” Crowley, who never could say no to the angel, started thrusting to meet Aziraphale’s movements. “Good, guh, Somebody, _hnngh,”_ Crowley contributed to the conversation. Aziraphale popped off Crowley’s cock, holding him up while he nosed between Crowley’s legs to lick him all over, forked tongue pressing into his most vulnerable areas. “Angel,” Crowley panted, “my angel …”

Aziraphale sat up higher on his knees, but instead of deep-throating again, he wrapped just his thumb and forefinger around the head of Crowley’s cock and pressed the sucking “O” of his mouth flush against them. He spit, and started to work only the head, occasionally slicking saliva with his thumb across the tip. Crowley keened above him, head back. “Nnnn,” he said, after a minute, as he pulled Aziraphale to his feet. “Don’t wanna finish this way, wanna … with you, I,” he heaved as their mouths crashed together again, then he slapped the wall behind him until he successfully managed to turn the shower off.

“Okay,” Crowley gasped, “I’m okay,” as he grabbed a fluffy red towel and barely patted between them, not stopping to do a thorough job or think to provide a minor miracle. And still Aziraphale gripped up his arms, his waist, his back, and sought to never stop kissing him for an instant. They toppled into the bedroom, and Aziraphale had barely sat down on the bed before Crowley, both feet still planted on the floor, had grabbed him by the legs and driven himself to the hilt inside Aziraphale, who cried out at the unexpectedness of it. Crowley crossed Aziraphale’s ankles one over the other, laid them to the side of his neck, and kissed his feet, _accepting his scales,_ rocking slowly into him now.

Crowley let Aziraphale’s legs drop so that he could clamber closer, nudging Aziraphale up the bed until Crowley was above him. He reached back to guide Aziraphale’s legs around his waist, and fucked him so deeply, slowly, and full of love, as he placed one hand on Aziraphale’s cheek. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around him. “Crowley,” he said into his mouth.

“Mm?” Crowley choked, starting to quicken his pace. “Angel,” he whispered.

Aziraphale caught a sob in his throat. “I love you,” he said.

Crowley winced. “Don’t go,” he managed to say, “don’t take that back, don’t ever …” Faster now.

“N-never,” Aziraphale said, putting his hands on either side of Crowley’s face. And it didn’t matter whose eyes were whose, all that mattered was that _they were seeing each other._

“I love you,” Crowley moaned, “I have always loved you.”

“Close,” Aziraphale said, muffled by Crowley’s shoulder, “I’m _right—”_

 _“There,”_ Crowley finished for him. “Right there. I’m with you.”

“I’m right there … I love …”

“My love …”

_Love._

The last word as they shuddered together in ecstasy, and the first word of the rest of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xx [siliconealien](http://siliconealien.tumblr.com)


End file.
